A pair of sand hill cranes passes through our neighborhood almost daily at St Anselm’s Chapel Center.  Recently I noticed that they had a chick with them.

I have really wanted to get a closer look at the little one but I didn’t want to alarm the parents.

Or irritate them, for that matter.  I’m not sure that anything really alarms these slow moving birds, but I’ve heard they can get pretty aggressive.

Last week I was working in the chaplain’s office and was startled by a loud banging on the outside window.  The crane family was checking out our patio.  One of the adults–presumably the male–had apparently seen his reflection in the plate glass and was loudly defending his territory.  As I snapped a few pictures, he stepped over to another window, planted himself squarely in front of it and tapped repeatedly and insistently on the glass.

Reminded me of this William Stafford poem that I had read years ago.  Enjoy!

Easter Morning

Maybe someone comes to the door and says, 
“Repent,” and you say, “Come on in,” and it’s 
Jesus.  That’s when all you ever did, or said, 
or even thought, suddenly wakes up again and 
sings out, “I’m still here,” and you know it’s true.
You just shiver alive and are left standing
there suddenly brought to account: saved.

Except maybe that someone says, “I’ve got a deal
for you.” And you listen, because that’s how
you’re trained–they told you, “Always hear both sides.”
So then the slick voice can sell you anything, even
Hell, which is what you’re getting by listening.
Well, what should you do?  I’d say always go to 
the door, yes, but keep the screen locked.  Then, 
while you hold the Bible in one hand, lean forward 
and say carefully, “Jesus?”